


Vicarious

by ClownheadMcFucker



Category: Thir13en Ghosts (2001)
Genre: Awkward Boners, Dirty Talk, Discussions of sex, First Time, M/M, Pre-Canon, Sexual implications, confession of feelings, they are like drunkenly talking about sex no sex actually happens so im not sure how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:08:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26073925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClownheadMcFucker/pseuds/ClownheadMcFucker
Summary: Early in their relationship, Cyrus is interested in some of the encounters with spirits Dennis has had, along with various visions he’s seen from accidental contact with others. Somehow or another the stories turn sexual. (What? Did you expect anything more from a fanfic?)
Relationships: Dennis Rafkin/Cyrus Kriticos
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Vicarious

Sitting in Cyrus’ mansion on two impressively comfortable chairs, a coffee table between them and a drink in each of their hands. Plus a couple of extra, now emptied, glasses on Dennis’ side of course. 

It had been a week since Cyrus had contacted him, telling him he not only believed in his powers, (or rather, believed he wasn't just crazy) but was willing to pay him for them. Dennis hadn’t trusted Cyrus a bit when the man had first approached him. 

Actually, he wasn’t sure he trusted him too much more now either and found himself still instinctively trying to catch Cyrus in some kind of lie, or pick out some conversational clue that would prove that this whole thing was some elaborate scheme. Dennis didn’t consider himself a friendly person, it was a survival instinct for him not to be friendly. Which was exactly why he was surprised at how comfortable he’d gotten around Cyrus in just a week's time. Being allowed into this incredible house and treated to probably the most expensive alcohol he could ever drink helped, sure, but he was really beginning to feel _close_ to Cyrus. Something he couldn’t say about anyone else in the world. 

Moving from topic to topic in a conversation with ease, they had almost nothing in common except an interest in ghosts (Cyrus’ a hobby, Dennis’ a necessity), yet they seemed to be able to talk with one another for hours. Even the silences between topics were comfortable. 

Over the course of the last few hours, they’d discussed their respective tastes in food, cars, fashion, favorite black and white films, and realistic vs unrealistic presentation of ghosts in horror movies; Cyrus couldn’t stand some of the foolish misconceptions there were about ghosts. Not that he had as much first-hand experience with them as Dennis. But Dennis didn’t really care for horror movies anyway, realistic or not. 

After a calm silence, the topic had naturally gone back to Cyrus’ fascination with spirits and with Dennis’ connection to them ... at least that was seemingly the topic of conversation. 

“I searched years for someone like you, I had almost given up hope before I found you, I am fascinated by your powers, Dennis, "Cyrus said, “I imagine you have some very interesting tales to tell, some very grim I imagine ...” 

Dennis swirled the ice in his glass “ha, yeah .. probably 95% of them” 

“Well then let’s hear about the 5%” 

“Huh?” 

“If you’re comfortable that is, of course, I’m curious about your _experiences_.” 

Something about the way he’d said that last word made a bit of sweat start to form under Dennis’ collar. 

“What kind of experiences?” Dennis asked, sounding less confident than he had expected to. 

Cyrus chuckled, “at my age, I suppose I should just be frank, shouldn’t I?” 

Dennis gave him a glance that said, ‘yeah and?’ 

“I find you very handsome, Dennis, I’m curious about your sexual experience. I imagine your inability to touch others must make sex very difficult. Are you a virgin?” 

Dennis let out a loud and nervous laugh, looking away from Cyrus’ face and into his glass. Wow. Well, he did say he was going to be frank. “Difficult– difficult, yeah, more like impossible. I- yes,” Dennis said scratching his head, “I am technically virgin. Kind of embarrassing at my age, but–” 

Cyrus stopped him, “Technically?” 

Dennis looked as if he was struggling to put something to words, his mouth opening and closing without speaking, so Cyrus spoke over him again. 

“Tell me.” 

After a moment of internal debate and concentration, Dennis exhaled and began his story. 

“The first time was when I was in high school. I was skipping class. And, I can't remember why, but I was running down the hall. I bumped into this girl who must have been skipping too, or maybe going to the bathroom or something, I dunno. I crashed right into her. I got knocked back onto the floor, and she reached out to help me up –I didn’t want her to of course– I yelled for her not to touch me, but she was just being nice, it was just reflexive for her, I guess. She’d already grabbed my bare arm by the time she heard what I was saying to her,” Dennis said, gripping his own arm tightly around the bicep as if to demonstrate. His face steely serious as he recalled the rest of the events. “I saw,” he closed his eyes tightly and shook his head side to side, “so many horrible things that had and hadn’t yet happened to her ... but I saw something happy too,” he said, his face relaxing. “It almost never happens to me, it must only have been because it was on her mind so strongly, I saw– and felt! I felt from her perspective– sex that she’d had with her boyfriend.” 

Cyrus made a little amused sound before speaking, “first-time teenaged sex isn’t exactly renowned for its quality. Was it any good?” 

Dennis laughed as well, “probably not, but at the time I- I’d never felt anything like it before it was- it was incredible I-“ he laughed again more genuinely, “well I never thought I’d know what it felt like to have a pussy. Only for a few seconds but still, man. Wow!” 

He expected Cyrus to laugh at that, but instead, he was beaming. 

“How incredible, how absolutely incredible,” Cyrus said, “to experience the sensations of another person vicariously, not just visions as every psychic, sham or not, claims to have, but _real_ tactile sensations as if they were your own. The more I learn of your abilities, Dennis, the more impressed with you I become. What a humble ghost hunter I should be to have access to such abilities, no technology in the world compares to you, my boy.” 

Dennis figured it was a lie, it was his powers that Cyrus was impressed with, not himself but still, he couldn’t help but smile at the praise. For someone who could never know touch, the praise felt better than as any phantom sensation. 

“You must have more?” Cyrus prompted, “go on?” 

“Well, I brushed shoulders with a guy outside a club once who was into some really weird shit, that was _vivid_ ,” Dennis said, wide-eyed “and of course, I’ve felt sensations from people who’ve suffered, well, ya’know … sexual violence in their lives but... I’d-I would rather not talk about that.” 

“Of course not, of course not,” Cyrus said, “these rare, happy memories are much more interesting.” 

Dennis doubted that was truthful from someone with such an occult hobby. 

“If you don’t have anymore I understand and–” 

“Well I do have another ... a personal encounter with a ghost actually,” Dennis said, a strange dreamy look coming over his face, “It was in one of the first decent places I was able to live in after aging out of foster care. I’d spent months trying to find a place to live that I could actually afford that also didn't have something dead in it; there’s hardly any. This ghost, he– well actually now that I say it out loud, I’m not really sure it was a he,” Dennis said, “but uh, it was benevolent and shy, so I hadn’t felt it when I first moved in. It was, I dunno, _dormant_ I guess, and once I showed up with my powers and everything it kind of- it’s like it _activated_.” 

Cyrus nodded as if this made great sense. 

“Once it knew I could see it and sense it, it wouldn't leave me alone. I woke up one morning in bed to it lying there beside me. A lot of spirits, they give you that feeling of dread, even normal people can feel it if it’s bad, but not him, he wasn’t like that” Dennis had unknowingly slipped back into using the more personal pronoun. “He was pleasant, he was actually calming to be around, and he never tried to hurt me. Not once. He would be there every time I woke up and when I came home, he just wanted to spend time with me, wanted to kiss me … _He was just so lonely_ , but I moved away, I couldn't stay I- he thought I was someone else he, I–” 

“A spirit waiting its whole afterlife for a lost lover and mistaking you for them. You felt like you were deceiving it.” 

“Stupid isn’t it?” Dennis said, almost inaudibly, his head sunk low, practically between his knees. 

“No, on the contrary, I think it's very honest of you, compassion even towards the dead-” 

You think it's a weakness, huh? Dennis thought. 

“it’s a _virtue_.” Cyrus said. 

Dennis looked up at Cyrus with slightly wet eyes, and for just that moment, all of his distrust for the man completely vanished. The look on his face making Cyrus wonder if anyone had ever said a single kind thing to this boy in his entire life. 

A virtue, yes, but a virtue without a place for someone in a field to _capture_ ghosts. It made him think of that pair of paranormal scientists he'd locked horns with on a few occasions, Mr. and Dr. Oretzia. _Kalina_. Trying to make some kind of career out of helping ghosts pass on to the next world. Preaching about their rights as human beings, _former human beings_. Thank the Devil he’d gotten to Dennis before those two had. 

Oh Dennis, to think this sad sliver of a young man sitting before him held such incredible power. And what a truly pitiful existence to hold that power, Cyrus thought, even this experience that he had categorized among the few happy ones was clearly upsetting for him to recall in great detail. 

“Well,” Dennis said, taking another large gulp of his drink and breaking Cyrus’ train of thought, “you asked me about my... _experiences_ , now you gotta tell me about yours. Fair?” 

Cyrus grinned “Certainly. You told me about your first time, I suppose I could tell you of mine.” 

Dennis listened eagerly. 

“What a long time ago,” Cyrus said, rubbing his chin in contemplation, it was obviously an event he hadn’t put much thought to in a long time. “It was with a young man probably about your age –well, we were both your age at the time, of course. There was a time when I was mostly with women, but I’ve never had a real preference, it’s all about beauty to me,” he said. Beauty or power, all the same, he thought. “But I’m getting off-topic,” Cyrus said, waving his hand as if to physically dismiss the conversational tangent. “We attended the same university, but I actually didn’t know him all that well, at first, at least. My closest friend was a friend of his, and his of mine. We were often in the same company but really only just by chance. One night we were all a bit drunk, our group had dispersed and somehow both of our friends had ended up leaving, sick and needing to go to bed or something. It was just the two of us alone in my room and we were forced to finally converse one on one,” Cyrus smiled to himself, “I had been dreading it, but I was so surprised to see how comfortable I was with him. He had an interest in the occult like myself, it wasn't something you could talk about that easily with casual company so we both became very excited on finding someone to confide in. Who knows how we ended up kissing, it all just felt very natural, to have him in my arms. I took him that night for the first time in my hideous school bed and many other times in many other places. He was such a languid sexual partner,” Cyrus said, crossing legs, “he would completely melt under me, hmm I can still feel how good it felt to be inside of him … but over the short years he became less forthcoming with me. I understood his reasoning but- you see, even at that age I was considered _eccentric_ by most, but he was not. He preferred to blend in at any cost to his interests and desires, and I was much more serious than him –in regards to the occult– in the end, actually, I think he found me frightening.” Cyrus said, laughing as if it weren’t actually a very sad thought to scare a lover away forever. “It was too much for him, the ghosts, as well as some of the … _tastes_ I’d developed as we aged.” 

“What kind of tastes?” Dennis asked, fearing he might regret asking once he heard the answer. 

“Oh various things,” Cyrus said with a shrug, “toys he had never heard of, bondage, anything to keep things interesting.” 

“Oh,” Dennis said absentmindedly, flashing on the ‘guy who was into weird shit’, he’d mentioned earlier. He was rubbing his palms firmly over the tops of his thighs. Ah, how hadn’t I noticed sooner? Cyrus thought. 

“If you're trying to will it away, don’t bother, you don’t need to hide _that_ from me Dennis,” Cyrus said, pointing to Dennis’ erection and trying not to make his delighted grin so obvious. 

Dennis immediately stood up, flushed, he turned his back to Cyrus and nearly knocked over the heavy chair he’d been sitting in. Frustration turning to mild anger. 

“Alright! So I’m a little hard, what do you expect from the shit we’ve been talking about?” 

He pulled at the crotch of his pants a little, trying to relieve some of the tightness and, as Cyrus had said, _will it away_. 

“I think this conversation has made our mutual attraction rather clear, and I'm going to continue to be frank with you.” Cyrus said, still casually sitting in his chair with legs crossed, completely unfazed by Dennis’ behavior. 

“Do you want to have sex with me, Dennis?” he asked. 

“Oh god, you are so blunt and I am so drunk,” Dennis whined under his breath before yelling, “How!? I told you it’s impossible for me t-” 

As Dennis turned around he flinched to feel something small touch the center of his clothed chest. Cyrus had risen from his chair without even being heard and stood before him now, inches away, pressing the tip of a silver pen to his T-shirt. 

Dennis looked at him confused and still slightly angry as Cyrus backed him up a few steps until his back brushed the wall. 

“Well?” Cyrus asked. 

“Well _what!?_ What the hell?” 

“You aren't getting any visions from me, no awful images of my suffering, no pain?” 

Dennis’ face relaxed as the realization began to dawn on him; an object in someone else’s handing touching him had thankfully never triggered his powers the same way outright touch did, but he’d never considered that as an option for _sex_ of all things. 

Could you even still call it sex? 

"Well?” Cyrus asked again. 

Dennis shook his head. He felt like he’d spent more time with Cyrus in this one afternoon than he had with any living person in his whole life. 

Dennis laughed. Of course, the one and only living person who wanted to be in his company would be _this guy_. Oh well, better than the dead, right? 

“Well,” Dennis said, “what are we waiting for?”

**Author's Note:**

> This isn’t necessarily a prequel or beginning to my fic “Don’t You Know?” because of a few little contradictions, but it could easily be read as a lead-in to “Don’t You Know?” if you happen to be interested in more Dennis/Cyrus content :)  
> also note because I implied Dennis could see the ghost in his apartment, I like to think Dennis can see ghosts if they chose to present themselves to him, but just not on the same level of clearness that the spectral glasses provide.


End file.
